


The Doctor and the Musketeer

by fairywriter



Category: Doctor Who, The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairywriter/pseuds/fairywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't realized Martha loved The Three Musketeers so much, but she must've for not only did the book have her name carefully written on the title page, but she'd underlined whole passages of the book and written notes to herself in the margins, she'd even doodled little hearts around Porthos' name several times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was sort of inspired by the wonderful Musketeer story Rest in Peace by Questfan, the last chapter of which is a beautifully crack-y piece of fiction that introduced me to the ship that is (or should be if it doesn't exist) Martha/Porthos. (Not sure if that story is on this site, I read it on FF.Net).
> 
> Potential spoilers for season 1 of the Musketeers and all of New Who.
> 
> In this story Martha never worked for UNIT and she hasn't seen the Doctor since the events in the episode Last of the Time Lords. The Doctor's story continued on much as it did in the show minus Martha.

The Doctor sat leaning back against the TARDIS console, he had his arms and legs crossed and was slowly nodding his head from right to left. If anyone had asked he'd have said he was thinking but there was no one around to ask and truthfully the Doctor was bored. After he'd taken Donna home and given her mother and Wilf strict instructions never to tell her about him or her own adventures, he'd tried to find something, anything, to distract him from the awful truth that it was all his fault and he'd failed Donna. But adventuring just wasn't as interesting without Donna's brassy voice and exasperated looks and he didn't know what to do or where to turn. His eyes suddenly fell on the book he'd left lying open next to him, it was partly to blame for his ennui as he'd picked it up in the hopes of losing himself in Alexandre Dumas' classic tale of the three Musketeers but the handwriting in the front of the book had distracted him. He hadn't realized Martha had left the book on the TARDIS, actually he hadn't realized Martha loved The Three Musketeers so much, but she must've for not only did the book have her name carefully written on the title page, but she'd underlined whole passages of the book and written notes to herself in the margins, she'd even doodled little hearts around Porthos' name several times, which would've had the Doctor grinning on any other day. Today though it was just another reminder of how often he'd failed the people he cared about. He winced as he remembered the last time he'd spoken to Martha. He knew she'd made the right decision for her, and if he was completely truthful, it hadn't hurt him as much at the time as it should've, he'd just kind of gone right on as though it hadn't happened, as though she'd never even been there….

His thoughts trailed off as a smile came to his face, he jumped quickly to his feet and began pulling the levers and turning the knobs that would get the TARDIS to travel where he wanted. It sat down in London and he stopped just a moment to steel himself, after all, he couldn't be sure Martha would really be happy to see him.

It was a cold and rainy autumn day and the wind gusted fitfully as the Doctor shoved his hands in his coat pockets and walked down the sidewalk towards Martha's favorite coffee shop. See, he could remember some things! Of course it didn't hurt that Martha had often requested that they stop in here in the morning, even when they were on the other side of the galaxy. The Doctor had to admit they had awfully good pastries and he was definitely getting one for the road.

'This is me getting out' the Doctor stopped as Martha's voice ghosted through his consciousness.

'This is a bad idea' he thought, turning around quickly.

'But if I don't try…' he turned again then stopped and shook his head, turning he knew he'd made the right choice and….. but what if he hadn't? He turned again. And froze, for there was Martha looking at him with her head tilted and an expression somewhere between questioning and laughing on her face.

"Training for the Ballet Doctor?" she grinned at him as he visibly relaxed.

"Martha Jones! Fancy seeing you around here" he said smiling his most brilliant joyful smile.

"Doctor, what are you up to?" she asked crossing her arms though her smile didn't fade.

"I found this today" he drew her book from his pocket and held it out to her.

"Oh!" Martha's brow furrowed as she took the book and turned it over in her hands.

"Thank you Doctor, I was frantic when I realized I'd left it" she looked up at him as she happily hugged the worn book to her chest.

"I didn't realize you loved that story so much" he told her "if I had I would've taken you to meet the Musketeers".

"You mean you would've taken me to see the men Alexandre Dumas supposedly based his characters on?" Martha asked, quirking her brow.

"No, I mean I would've taken you to meet D'Artagnan, Aramis, Athos, and Porthos. Though I'd probably recommend staying away from the Cardinal, he's really not a nice guy". The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet.

"So…. they're real? Exactly as they're written in this book?" Martha inquired excitedly, waving the book in the Doctor's general direction.

"Well no" the Doctor pursed his lips "old Dumas took some liberties with their characters, as well as their adventures, and actually the real Musketeers are much nicer people then they seem in that book. In fact I'm friends with their captain; Treville. He's a good man, he went adventuring with one of my earlier faces when he was younger. We had a lot of fun together and sometimes we get together just to talk over everything going on".

"Could… could we, just this once, go traveling again? I'd really love to meet them" Martha asked, the expression on her face torn once again, though this time it was something between ecstatic and nervous.

"Why Martha Jones, that is a wonderful idea" replied the Doctor as though that hadn't been his intention the whole time.

Martha gave him a questioning look but then she shrugged and grinned again as he grabbed her hand and they headed towards the TARDIS.


	2. Chapter 2

“Athos may very well murder those new recruits” Aramis commented idly “perhaps we should take pity on them and intervene” he quirked an eyebrow at Porthos who was sitting beside him at their usual breakfast spot in the Musketeer garrison.

Porthos shrugged and took another bite of bread before replying “does them no good to go easy, their enemies wouldn’t”

“We both know Athos isn’t concerned with what their enemies would do, he’s venting his own frustration” said Aramis. 

“He’s worried” Porthos finished the last of his bread and took a swig of water.

“Yes, but d’Artagnan can take care of himself and he is only a couple of days late” Aramis pointed out “Perhaps his horse threw a shoe, or the weather was poor and he had to take shelter”

Porthos snorted “I might believe that if it was anyone but d’Artagnan, that lad can get into more trouble than the three of us combined”

Aramis smiled a bit at that “true, and I’m sure if he isn’t back by tonight we will be readying ourselves to go aft…” he trailed off as he noticed the quizzical look on Porthos’ face.

“Do you hear that?” Porthos asked.

Aramis cocked his head to the left “hear what?” 

“Sort a like an ‘eee ooo, eee ooo’ sound” Porthos answered.

“All I hear is the sound of a groaning recruit” said Aramis as a particularly loud thwump sounded throughout the garrison. “I think it best I put a stop to this before someone has to tell Treville that his best Musketeer has been arrested for murder….. again” 

Porthos nodded absentmindedly as Aramis left him. The noise he’d heard was bothering him, mostly because he wasn’t sure what could’ve made such an odd sound. Rather than sit there and watch Aramis’, admittedly ludicrously funny, attempts at distracting Athos, Porthos decided to investigate. The closest place that the noise could’ve come from was the kitchen so Porthos decided to start there and work his way around the garrison if necessary.

*

The kitchen was warm and the scent of last night’s supper still hung in the air. Serge didn’t seem to be around but Porthos’ senses were telling him that someone or something was. His hand went to his belt and he pulled a knife, feeling better as he hefted it and walked the length of the room. His eyes missed nothing, nor did they see anything amiss. He was beginning to feel a bit silly when he remembered, there was another room behind the kitchen, but where was the door? He pushed aside the empty bags hanging along one wall and was rewarded with the sight of a door.

“Odd place to have a locked door” he whispered to himself after he tried the knob. Not that a locked door could stop him, he grinned slightly as he pulled out his lock pick set and went to work. The lock clicked but he paused before opening the door, sure that he’d heard a voice.

“Hurry up Martha; I don’t see why you want to dress to fit in anyway” a male’s voice came through the door and Porthos furrowed his brow in confusion as the words made little sense to him.  
He briefly considered getting Aramis or Athos but shook his head as soon as the thought crossed his mind; they were obviously busy as he could hear the sound of Athos’ shouting even in his current position. He roughly pushed the door open and rushed in, only to stop when he saw a big blue… something. It was sitting in the corner of the small unfurnished room with a long lanky man in odd clothing leaning against it; he looked up as Porthos came in and smiled a wide beaming smile that was oddly infectious though Porthos didn’t give in to the temptation to grin back at him.

“Well hello! Who are you?” asked the man, he eyed the knife but didn’t seem too worried.

“I got a better question for you, who’re you?” growled Porthos, the man didn’t look all that dangerous but Porthos kept his knife pointed at him.

The man pulled one hand out of his trouser pockets and offered it to Porthos. Still disregarding the knife he said “I’m the Doctor”.

The opening of the blue thing meant that Porthos didn’t have to decide whether to shake the stranger’s hand or not, which he thought was a good thing since he didn’t really know what to do. A woman stepped out of the blue thing and Porthos’ eyes widened slightly. The woman was lovely, beautiful even, she was wearing a green dress lightly embroidered with white thread and an ivory jacket covered in lace, it was an expensive looking outfit that could’ve graced any well off woman but it particularly set off this woman’s dark skin and wide expressive eyes. 

“Porthos, where are you?” came Aramis’ voice from outside the kitchen door “Athos promises to behave now, you don’t have to hide”

The woman looked at him excitedly “you’re Porthos?” she asked.

“What is going on here?” asked Aramis coming up behind Porthos.

“Never you mind” came yet another voice from behind Aramis.

“Captain Treville!” Aramis exclaimed “I promise we’ve been exceptionally well-behaved in your absence”.

Treville didn’t grace the obvious lie with a reply, instead he gestured for Aramis and Porthos to leave. Porthos was only too happy to oblige, he felt as though his tongue had stopped working and he didn’t like not knowing what to say. Once outside his eyes followed the odd trio as they exited the kitchen and climbed the stairs to Treville’s office. 

“How’d they get in there?” he muttered, he hadn’t meant Aramis to hear him but his friend nodded his head.

“It’s a fair question” acknowledged Aramis “but I’m more curious as to why they were in there and why they are now in Treville’s office”.

Aramis suddenly swept his hat onto his head and, ignoring Porthos confused expression, swiftly moved towards the entrance to the garrison.

“Oi, what you doing?” Porthos questioned as he stood up to follow.

“If Athos asks, you have no idea where I am” Aramis said flapping his hands at Porthos trying to make him stay put.

“What did you do?” Porthos yelled at Aramis’ back but the man didn’t turn around and Porthos huffed in annoyance as he sat back down and, ignoring the sight of Athos tearing after Aramis, he turned his eyes once more to Treville’s door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Hints of past violence including domestic violence. 
> 
> And OCs are beginning to appear, hopefully you like Noémie as she will likely be around a little while. Most other OCs will be bad guys or very minor characters.

D'Artagnan supposed things could be worse; though he would be happier without the pounding headache, or the manacles, or the nearly overwhelming feelings of hunger. Okay, he admits it; things cannot really get much worse. There was no doubt in his mind that the others would come looking for him but given how far off track he was… well, he didn't think even the best musketeers in the regiment would be able to find him very quickly. He groaned and tried to shift his legs to a more comfortable position then stiffened when he heard the creak of the cell door opening.

"I'm sorry it has been so long" said the finely dressed young woman that stepped through the doorway, she smiled softly at d'Artagnan and sat a plate of stew and bread on the floor near d'Artagnan's left hand.

"Any good news Noémie?" d'Artagnan asked, sliding the plate closer and savoring the warmth of it against his hand.

"Non" she shook her head "I am sorry Monsieur, there hasn't been any talk of Musketeers in the area".

D'Artagnan nodded gingerly, mindful of his aching head.

"I didn't really expect any yet" he answered digging into the stew hungrily.

Noémie sighed and sat down on a barrel opposite d'Artagnan in the tiny cell that was lit only by a small barred window set high in the wall.

"Perhaps you are tired of hearing my apologies but I am truly sorry for all of this" she said sadly, looking at the wall behind him rather than at him.

"Your father's actions are not your fault Mademoiselle, and I appreciate that you are keeping me fed" answered d'Artagnan.

"I wish I could do more, even just bringing you more food, but I am not immune to my father's temper. It is times like this I wish I could go live with my uncle in Paris, he is not always a kind man but he would never harm me".

"If I get out of here, I will find a way to get you to Paris and your uncle" d'Artagnan promised, his gaze darkening as it fell on a purplish bruise on Noémie's wrist that had not been there when he'd seen her two days before.

She tugged the cuff of her ivory dress down farther and nodded at him.

"Thank you d'Artagnan" she looked straight at him again and smiled as he swallowed the last crumb of bread.

"Noémie, I would rather starve than have you get hurt" d'Artagnan told her "do not get into trouble because of me".

Noémie shrugged "non Monsieur, Musketeers are not the only ones who can be brave; I only wish I was just a little bit braver then I would go to Paris myself and bring back your friends".

A loud clang from upstairs startled them both and Noémie stood up hurriedly and grabbed the plate.

"Until later Monsieur" she left quickly and d'Artagnan settled back against the wall to wait.

*

Martha leaned back against the door in Treville's office and grinned at the happy reunion between the two old friends, the Doctor and the captain were both talking a mile a minute and, given the easy camaraderie with which they were speaking, Martha was pretty sure they would go on a while. She didn't even try to get the Doctor's attention she just slipped out the door and strode down the stairs. She wanted to explore Paris but even more, she wanted to see Porthos and the others again. Porthos hadn’t really looked like she'd pictured and it was funny how she’d been slightly disappointed at first. She had definite ideas of what her favorite characters would look like, act like, and talk like. And so far she’d been completely wrong, in looks at least, about both Porthos and Captain Treville. Still, these weren’t characters in a book, they were real breathing human beings and Martha was sure if she was given a chance to get to know them she wouldn’t really be disappointed. She stopped near the table where Porthos was sitting, he was cleaning a knife but she’d seen him glance at her a couple of times and she guessed that he was probably curious about his captain’s odd guests.

“Porthos isn’t it?” she asked sitting down across from him, she wasn’t trying to stare so openly but seeing him again made her wonder how she could’ve been disappointed, he was far more handsome than the man she’d pictured.

“Aye” he answered with a hint of wariness.

“My name is Martha, my traveling companion, the Doctor, is friends with Captain Treville” she told him, shaking off any thoughts of how nice his eyes were “we thought we’d stop in and surprise him”.

“He doesn’t get visitors very often, but then, most of us don’t” Porthos commented, apparently deciding not to question their odd arrival.

“Where are you staying in Paris?” he continued as he put away the knife.

“We’ve only just arrived, and I’m not sure what the Doctor’s plans are” Martha answered.

“Porthos” came a shout from across the garrison; Martha turned and saw the dark-haired man that’d been behind Porthos in the kitchen.

“That’s Aramis” Porthos told her before shouting across to Aramis “can’t you see I’m talking to this lady?”

Aramis grinned and walking over to them he swept his hat off his head and bowed in front of Martha.

“Mademoiselle” his grin turned into a charming smile “may I pull my friend away from your, no doubt delightful, company for a few moments?” 

“Of course” Martha smiled at him, now here was a musketeer that acted almost exactly like what she pictured. She didn’t doubt he’d surprise her too eventually but for now it was very easy to think of the book character being based off this man. She watched them walk over to another man who was standing by the entrance to the garrison; Martha hoped he was Athos because, even from a distance, she could see he had an air of nobility about him and as he was her second favorite character after Porthos, she didn’t want to be disappointed.

“They’re real people, not characters” she reminded herself quietly.

A clatter on the stairs announced the Doctor’s hurried arrival.

“Martha! You’ll never believe, there have been sightings of odd men made out of tin in the province of Angoumois, Treville’s asked me to look into it with him, we’re going in the TARDIS so it won’t take all that long, want to come?” he asked rubbing hands together impatiently.

“I think I’ll wait here” Martha answered “I came to meet musketeers not go fight more aliens”.

“Fair enough” the Doctor nodded “see you in a couple of days” he gave her a quick wave then disappeared into the kitchen. Martha shook her head, she wasn’t sure what she’d do for the next two days but glancing over at Porthos she thought she might have an interesting time.


End file.
